


The Cycle

by Jb1979jb



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Abuse, Attempted Suicide, Domestic Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jb1979jb/pseuds/Jb1979jb
Summary: Against the monotony of everyday life in Broadchurch CID, a series of events change Hardy and Miller's perspectives.





	1. Chapter 1

Alec Hardy found himself contemplating the future more frequently than he’d like to admit. He was physically healthy and no longer able to hide behind the uncertainty of heart arrhythmia. With Daisy’s help, Hardy had made a fairly valiant effort to reenter the dating world. He hadn’t contacted his first Tinder date again – nor she him – but he’d been out with a few more women after that. The only promising connection – a divorced accountant he saw for a couple of months – came to an abrupt end when she’d reconciled with her ex-husband. Although Hardy couldn’t fault her for patching up a seventeen-year relationship with the father of her three children, the experience had soured his appetite for dating. It was time for a break from the tedious messages and the awkward first meetings. In the meantime, Daisy had finished sixth form and moved on to a university about 90 minutes away, nearly halfway between Broadchurch and her mother’s home in Sandbrook, and came round to both for the occasional weekend or school break. While his daughter took her first tentative steps into adult life, Hardy found himself questioning why he was staying in Broadchurch.

Like Hardy himself, Broadchurch had changed in the five years since Danny Latimer’s death. The town was no longer the same sleepy holiday spot. Local businesses shuttered under an uncertain economy while national chains opened on the high street. Council houses and estates sprung up, bringing a growing population as well as an ever-expanding list of problems for Broadchurch CID. Mercifully, violent crimes were still few and far between. Both Leo Humphries and Michael Lucas pleaded guilty, sparing Trish Winterman and the other women a trial. Although Hardy was grateful for the long periods of time without grim uncertainty for the public’s safety, petty crime and minor offenses kept his working days in the 12 or 14 hour range. The CID had hired 15 new officers in the past several months to keep up with the callouts – drug use, domestic disturbances, burglaries, drink driving, tourists having personal items nicked… In the rare lull during the workday, between paperwork and attempting to talk to locals at their most hysterical, Hardy couldn’t help but feel the monotony creeping in. Callouts seemingly blended together – the same people getting themselves into the same issues over and over again. The same rowing couples would be called in by their neighbors over the late night shouting about never-resolved issues. Addicts were caught out vomiting in the street or passed out on benches. Pubs kicking out unruly patrons. Although Broadchurch’s booming population and rapidly growing police force did lend itself to opportunities for career advancement and promotion, Hardy felt himself struggling with purpose. Why be here? Why serve people who won’t help themselves? Being detective inspector may not have been an overtly stressful position, but the opportunities to be challenged, to grow his skill set as a police officer, were rare.

Hardy almost envied Ellie Miller’s loyalty towards the town, despite of the lack of commitment it showed towards her. Still ever-present by his side during callouts or cases, Ellie seemed to thrive on the familiarity of the culprits of Broadchurch’s minor crimes. During their fifth visit to the MacMillan’s flat in three weeks, called in by an angry neighbor during the early morning hours, Hardy stood back as Ellie calmly subdued their tempers, raging over accusations of infidelity, fueled by alcohol. She recognized half of the kids busted for underage drinking or drug use on the beach as the child of a former schoolmate or onetime coworker. Ellie had the resourcefulness of a skilled officer, as well as the interpersonal abilities that seemed to resonate with people through their anger and grief. Hardy knew that these skills gave her a professional advantage in a town like Broadchurch. However, he wondered why she’d given up the ambition to advance through CID that she had years ago, when they’d first met. Hardy suspected why, though.

Despite the time passed, despite the growth and change in the town, people hadn’t forgotten about Joe Miller, and they certainly didn’t forget that Ellie was his wife. During arrests, callouts, or questionings, the random belligerent suspects or the incoherent drunks would throw barbs at Ellie, trying to get her to react. Hardy had to hold back his own retorts as he watched Ellie grit her teeth and keep the anger off her face. Hardy knew Ellie could do better than Broadchurch. They both could. But, despite everything, Joe was a liability that Ellie could never shake. She could spend her whole life in the town, serving the public, attempting to build up a community that her estranged husband irreparably damaged, but her reputation, however unfair, would always hold her back.

Not that Hardy ever asked Ellie about it. Her career and Joe were just two of the topics in the unspoken boundary between them that they never crossed. Their relationship – if that’s the word for it – confounded Hardy a bit. Ellie was still the only person in CID that he worked well with, and they shared an irregular intimacy about their lives outside of work. Ellie generally wore her heart on her sleeve – she didn’t think twice about having a row with her father over her car’s speaker phone with Hardy in the passenger seat, or ranting openly about Tom’s attitude and Fred’s increasingly apparent ADHD symptoms – but Hardy still shied away from opening up about himself or asking Ellie about herself. Ellie had found out about the accountant – of course she did – and ribbed Hardy about it a bit. When that fling came to an end, somehow, she knew – once again, of course she did – and shared a quiet condolence over a pile of paperwork. Hardy just grunted a reply behind his mug of tea, but he did appreciate the gesture. Not that he’d admit to it. Ever.

Hardy was grateful to have Ellie around when it came to Daisy. He tried his best to navigate full-time parenting in the couple of years Daisy lived with him in Broadchurch, and he came to rely on Ellie’s intervention on more than one occasion. Daisy would come home, shattered over boyfriend problems, school stress, or social issues, and Hardy, not sure how to proceed, would text Ellie to ask for her help. And like clockwork, Daisy would open her locked door for Miller and immediately shut it behind her. Hardy would usually sit in his front room, shuffling through paperwork, feeling out of place in his own home while muffled conversation occasionally drifted through the walls. An hour or two later, Ellie would emerge from Daisy’s room, shrugging her purse back over her shoulder while Hardy looked up expectantly.

“All right?”

“It’s sorted.” Miller paused, but never elaborated. “See you tomorrow.”

Ellie didn’t wait for a reply as she left through the sliding door and started back down the hill. Daisy would usually emerge a short while later, calm and collected, and would proceed to start homework, browse her phone, or make some food while Hardy was left silently contemplating why Miller somehow always knew how to talk to his daughter when he had no idea where to start.

If Hardy were a different person, he’d share more of himself with Ellie, or ask her the questions he curious to hear the answers. But he didn’t. That precarious unspoken boundary needed to stay in place to make sure things worked. So life went on. Disputes and drunks and petty crime kept them moving throughout the day, not leaving any time to contemplate the alternatives.

The unseasonably warm spring morning in Broadchurch offered no respite from the usually monotonous calls. Hardy and Ellie entered CID after returning from yet another late night report of screaming and items breaking in the MacMillan household. Both the MacMillans managed to calm down, sober up, and drift off to sleep in the hours Hardy and Miller spent in their flat, talking them down from their latest dispute. As Ellie and Hardy trudged back into the building, Bob, seated at the front desk, intercepted them before they reached the lift.

“Don’t get too comfortable. We’ve had several urgent calls this morning.”

Hardy groaned as he took the notes off Bob. 

“Two separate break ins this morning,” Bob continued. “One is a room at the Trader’s. A couple visiting from Canada woke to find someone entered the room during the night while they slept. They say everything’s been nicked – a purse containing passports, cash, credit cards. The other call came from a local restaurant. The owner came in this morning to find someone’s kicked in the door and stolen a few items.”

“Are the break ins related?” Hardy asked, squinting at Bob’s notepad.

“Not sure.”

“Alright,” Hardy sighed as he handed off the notes to Ellie. She flipped through the pad before looking back at Hardy. “Should we divide and conquer?”

“Works for me,” Ellie replied. “You have a preference?”

“I’ll take the Trader’s, you take the restaurant. You can even have Bob.”

“Thank you, sir, quite generous of you to offer me up,” Bob retorted.

“Anytime,” Hardy deadpanned. “Keep me posted.”

Ellie nodded in reply, as she turned to leave the building, with Bob following behind.

Miles away, the chilly Liverpool morning hadn’t deterred a steady stream of customers away from the shipyard. George Neeley checked the dozens of cars pulling up, looking at IDs and invoices, recording arrival and departure times, taking notes. Every so often, it seemed that a flicker of recognition would pass over a driver’s face, or he would see someone peer back in their rearview mirror as they drove away. But the nametag on his uniform was enough for people to lose interest. He was G. Neeley. They were mistaken. He’s not who they thought.

He couldn’t shake those looks. His thoughts raced all morning as he went through the motions at the front gate. How dare they pass judgment? How could they possibly think they know the truth? They couldn’t know what was in his heart, they couldn’t understand the connection he had with Danny. He wasn’t a killer – he had been acquitted. He was innocent – he had to be. Why hide behind George Neeley? Why not return to Broadchurch, reclaim his life, his family, everything that had been taken from him? They didn’t know. None of them understood. He could show them. He could go back to the way he was.

George Neeley may have been keeping a low profile in Liverpool, but the growing temptation to let Joe Miller back out was proving to be too much.


	2. Chapter 2

Hardy involuntarily grimaced as he walked into the lobby at the Trader’s Hotel. Not only had it been the scene of many of the low points in his life, but under its new ownership, the hotel had developed a pallor of seediness that matched its dull wallpaper and well worn carpets. Becca Fisher definitely put more money and care into the property than its current proprietor did – which is probably why she was forced to undergo voluntary insolvency before selling the hotel and moving out of the area – but the reduced nightly rates and proximity to the beach kept the tourists coming and the rooms full. Hardy may no longer have been a resident of the Trader’s, but he’d become a frequent enough visitor as the calls came in reporting overdoses, screaming matches, thefts, and the occasional suicide.

Today’s shout, however, came in the form of a despondent Canadian couple who’d awoken to find their doorknob unscrewed and their wallets, passports, mobiles, and purse gone. Hardy willed himself to not allow his impatience to manifest itself on his face as the Canadian man stuttered through his shock and anger.

“I can’t believe this! We have a flight home on Tuesday, we both have work on Thursday, and it’s a three hour drive from Toronto to get the kids from Amanda’s mother’s house. We don’t even have car keys! They were in her purse!”

Behind him, Amanda, equally shaken, flipped through computer printouts provided by an unnerved young desk clerk as she spoke into the lobby phone. “No… I don’t have an ID. It’s all in our wallets… yes, I need to speak to someone in the embassy.”

Hardy turned his attention back towards the man as he flipped open a notebook. “So, exactly what was inside the missing purse?”

“About 300 pounds in cash – we wanted to avoid using cash machines – the fees are astronomical – our credit cards, both our driver’s licenses, both passports, Amanda’s cellphone…” The man paused to groan into his hands. “This is a nightmare.”

A door behind the front desk opened and P.C. Patterson, a recent recruit that – to Hardy’s secret horror – was young enough to be his son, stepped out. “D.I. Hardy?” he called. “You may want to see this.”

Hardy slipped his notebook into the interior pocket of his jacket and gave the man a nod. “I’ll be right back.” He followed Patterson into the back room as the unnerved desk agent held the door. Patterson beckoned Hardy over to a small, boxy monitor.

“This is off the CCTV cameras by the side entrance. Familiar face.”

Both men watched the screen as a jittery young man, hunched over inside his dark hoodie, glanced around nervously before entering the hotel in the early hours. Hardy sighed out impatiently. “Bloody hell, him again?”

Patterson nodded. “Yeah, James Carpenter. We haven’t heard from him since he got picked up for rummaging through his grandmother’s silver a few weeks back. I assumed he’d left the area.”

“For Christ’s sake,” Hardy muttered. “All right. Call CID, get his details and most recent address.” He walked towards the door to the lobby before pausing and turning. “Well done, Patterson,” he nodded. The young officer momentarily forgot himself as he broke into a boyish beam at the commendation before composing himself with a cleared throat and a nod of affirmation. As Hardy exited the small storage room, he snorted a bit at Patterson’s exuberance before the irritation of yet another repeat offender took over.

Across town, Ellie and Bob entered The Elk Restaurant, gingerly stepping over glass shattered from the front door panels. Ellie surveyed the room, empty of people but filled with elegant, dark oak tables with matching chairs, many of which had been unceremoniously upended. She’d been in this building before - she and Beth had dinner here a few times in its previous incarnation – but The Elk had only recently opened and Ellie hadn’t tried it. “Hello?” Ellie called out. The mirrored bar caught her eye as she noticed several irregular empty spaces among the bottles of spirits. The remaining shards of wine and pint glasses glittered on the floor around the bar. As Ellie took in her surroundings, a flustered man walked in from a back room, chef’s jacket unbuttoned over a grey t-shirt. He was tall, with dark rimmed glasses and salt and pepper hair. He paused when he saw Ellie and Bob, as if surprised by their presence. 

Ellie gave him a tentative smile as an attempt to reassure the frazzled man. “I’m D.S. Miller, from Broadchurch CID, and this is P.C. Daniels.” Bob nodded in the man’s direction. “You called about a break in?”

The man let out a breath. “Yeah, sorry, thanks for coming so quickly.” He shook his head. “I own three spaces in Bristol – fourteen years out there, never had any trouble. Three months in Broadchurch and I’m already calling the police.”

Ellie gave him a rueful smile. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” The man let out a nervous chuckle and seemed to pacify a bit. “Are you the owner?”

“Yes, sorry. Henry Wilson.” He held out his hand and Ellie shook it. His hands were calloused – probably due to years of kitchen mishaps – and his grip firm. “I appreciate you coming in.”

“That’s what we’re here for.” Ellie removed a pen and a notepad from her purse and flipped to a blank page. “Can you walk me through what’s happened?”

Henry shook his head. “I got here this morning, parked out back like usual, and came in through the kitchen door. When I walked into the dining room, I noticed the door open and the panels broken. I had a quick look around to see if anyone was here before I phoned it in.”

Ellie looked up from her notes. “No one else here?”

Henry shook his head. “Just me. When I was waiting for you, I went inside my office. Someone’s tried to access the safe.” He headed into a back room as Ellie and Bob followed. Under a desk piled high with wrinkled invoices was a heavy steel safe, covered with gouges and scratch marks but otherwise tightly closed. “The digital keypad becomes inaccessible after three incorrect attempts. It can’t be overridden without the key.”

Ellie continued to scribble as he spoke. “Who has the code to the safe? What about the key?”

“My shift managers all know the code. I have the only key. There’s a deposit slot that allows employees to make drops without opening the safe. I think someone tried to pry it open with a tool.”

“Did you have a look inside?”

Henry nodded. “They weren’t able to get in. Everything’s still there.”

“Anything missing?”

Henry sighed. “Some equipment from the kitchen. Not huge items, but expensive. I think some skillets are missing. The commercial mixer’s still there, but someone’s removed the agitators. They had a go at the bar, too, half my bottles are gone.”

“Do you have CCTV?”

Henry looked glum. “Yes and no. The building had a system when I bought it, but it’s dodgy. Keeps turning itself on and off. I had a repairman out last week – he said the whole thing needed replacing. We’ve had an outage for the past month.”

“Have you had any issues with angry customers recently? Any problems with employees?”

Henry furrowed his brow as he thought. “No… business has been steady. A lot of new hires since we’ve opened, but everyone…” He paused abruptly and seemed to blanch. “Bloody hell. I fired two servers last week. You don’t think…” Henry trailed off as Ellie looked up from her notebook.

“What happened? Why did you fire them?”

“I received several complaints from customers about slow service and rudeness from these two. They were showing up late, making mistakes, giving off an attitude. It was the last straw.”

“Can you give me their names?”

“Wren Wheeler and Toby van Etton.”

“How old are they?”

“Pretty young. Seventeen, eighteen, maybe?”

“Do you have their details?”

Several hours later, Hardy and Miller had sorted their two separate burglaries. Hardy and Patterson had apprehended James Carpenter – as well as the Canadian couple’s personal items – in his girlfriend’s flat. The despondent Canadian couple was now an exuberant one, reunited with their passports, mobiles, and other possessions – except the cash. Hardy thought better than to offer up Carpenter’s fentanyl supply in its place as the junkie was booked into custody. Ellie has spent the better part of the afternoon bollocking two freaked out former waiters as their mortified parents listened in. The teens admitted to breaking into The Elk as retribution for their firing, and had agreed to relinquish the missing kitchen supplies and pay for the damages. Henry Wilson had declined to press charges. Paperwork could wait for the morning, Hardy thought as he and Miller trudged out the front doors of Broadchurch CID into the afterthought of the sun’s last rays.

“I can’t believe the bloody chef isn’t pressing charges.”

“It’s his prerogative. He was surprising understanding about the whole situation.”

Hardy sighed. “If James Carpenter’s nan hadn’t been so understanding when he was pawning her silver, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to break and enter the room of some bloody sleeping tourists.”

Ellie shrugged. “They’re just dumb kids, not hardened criminals. They’re sufficiently scared. Not much more to do at this point.”

“Burglaries in the area are up nearly 75 percent since last year. Everyone getting into everyone else’s shite. No one can keep their hands to themselves. And it just keeps coming. Pretty soon it will start escalating.”

“It’s got to be violating.” Hardy looked over at Miller, looking for elaboration. “Knowing someone’s entered your space when they don’t belong. It must be hard to get over a broken boundary like that.” Hardy didn’t reply, and Ellie didn’t continue. She adjusted her purse strap before heading down the front steps. “Goodnight.” 

“Night.” Hardy briefly watched her walk away, as he turned in the opposite direction and started home.

Joe’s heart was beating hard as he peered down at his mobile. Months of searching, putting keywords into Twitter and following hashtags on Instagram, looking at the backgrounds of pictures for familiar faces or recognizable landmarks, and he’s finally found it. He knew there’s no way Ellie would allow Tom to have publically available social media accounts – but he also knew that Tom would find away to get around it without being caught. His name, his location, his picture may not have been there – but the profile was Tom’s. His personality spilled out through his words, his pictures revealed familiar elements of the family home, or mates who had grown up so much in the past few years. Joe could scarcely believe it. His boy. He had found a way to reach him.

With fingers shaking, he pressed the direct messaging link and began typing.


	3. Chapter 3

Ellie started towards the school, Fred’s hand in hers as he practically vibrated his way up the sidewalk. “I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to sit and listen during class. It’s not fair to your teacher and the other kids when you’re up and shouting during lessons.” She glanced down at her youngest and realized with a sigh that he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Fred’s attention was on the other children in the schoolyard ahead, waving exuberantly at some mate that Ellie couldn’t pick out in the crowd. She released her jittery son with a kiss to the head and barely got out a “Make good decisions today, Freddie,” before he shot off into the playground like a puppy let off its lead.

Ellie vacated the area before any school staff noticed her and decided to make a detour towards The Elk Restaurant before going to work. As she approached the building, she noticed a security system installer’s van parked out front, and the cracked remains of the front door removed from its hinges, leaning sideways against the building, next to its plastic-wrapped replacement. Henry Wilson was crouched by the doorway, sifting through a toolbox, when he spotted Ellie and stood up a bit too eagerly, spanner in hand.

“D.S. Miller, um, hello!” 

“Good morning.” Ellie smiled as she approached. “Just checking in.”

“I’m impressed that a detective is personally coming by to follow up on teenage vandalism. Is everyone in your office as thorough as you?”

“Well… no,” Ellie admitted as Henry chuckled. “I was on my way in, wanted to see if everything was sorted.”

Henry gestured towards the door as he and Ellie peered into the dining room. Inside, Toby van Etten scowled as he pushed a broom, sweeping up shards of stemware, as his fuming mother supervised. “You’re moving all the tables aside and cleaning under those as well,” she ordered. “I don’t want to see a speck of glass left anywhere on this floor.” A light rattling sound approached as Wren Wheeler staggered in under the weight of a cardboard box brimming with wine glasses. “Not in here,” Mrs. Van Etten snapped. “You’re taking them into the kitchen and washing up first. Hurry up,” she barked at her son. “Once you’re finished out here, you’re helping her back there.” 

Both Ellie and Henry tried to stifle their laughter as they stepped aside to allow the CCTV repairman to enter, arms full of wires. “I’m not worried about this happening again,” Henry muttered as Ellie hid her amusement behind her hand. “Honestly, with Toby’s mum in charge, that floor has never looked better.” The two stepped back out into the morning sun.

“Well,” Ellie said, fidgeting with the strap of her purse before standing up a bit straighter. “Um… good luck with everything.”

“Thank you… I appreciate it.”

With a smile and a nod, Ellie started off towards the station. Henry looked on before turning back towards his door.

Tom Miller sat outside the school, bag by his feet and mobile in his hand as he reread the same message that had plagued him for several days. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but read – not reply, not block, not delete. Tom felt a million different ways to respond bubbling up inside of him, but somehow, none of them seemed to be able to coagulate together into a coherent thought. Unsure of what to do, Tom once again pulled up the message, as if reading it once more would give him the push to make the next step, whatever that was.

Tom – I love you and miss you so much. I think about you and Fred every day. You’re my world, and I am so proud of you.

The account had no picture or posts, and the message no signature. Tom realized that it could be a horrible prank, but a cold, hard pit inside his gut wouldn’t allow him to shake the feeling that it was genuine. He wasn’t sure what to do. Mum would go ballistic if she found out. Granddad would just make it worse. Tom couldn’t tell his mates – it would get out too quickly, and he relished the fact that, each passing year, he was considered “Joe Miller’s son” less and less. Tom understood that his father had issues, that he must stay away… but that nagging sting still remained from the days when he was the abandoned 13 year old boy. The one who would have done anything to have his family back. The one who was never really sure what had happened.

Tom let out a breath as he began to type.

Where are you?

After staring at the short message for several minutes, Tom finally willed himself to press send.

Later that week, as he followed Ellie up the grim steps of the council flats, Hardy began to consider the economic advantages of just moving into the building himself. He’d save on petrol, and he'd spent so much time here responding to calls reporting the MacMillans that it was quickly becoming a home away from home. A desolate second home, with paper-thin walls that did nothing to mask the shouting inside as he and Ellie approached the door.

Ellie knocked. “Wessex Police.” No response, and no repose with the yelling. She knocked again, more loudly. “Miriam, Eric, bloody open the door, please.” 

Stomping feet approached as the door swung open. Miriam MacMillan gave Hardy and Ellie a glassy-eyed stare before understanding sank in. “For fuck’s sake, why are you here?”

Ellie forced a smile “Same reason we’re always here. The neighbors are concerned, and would very much like to get some shuteye tonight.”

“If they’re so fucking concerned, they can tell my bastard husband to keep his hands off that slag from The King’s Arms.”

“For God’s sake, Miriam, nothing bloody happened.”

“Piss off Eric, I don’t fucking believe you anymore!”

Ellie held up her hands as a means of halting the argument. “All right. Let’s just have a seat.” The MacMillans slunk their way onto their shabby couch, arms folded, sulking like school children, smelling of spirits. “I take it the pair of you went out tonight?”

“Yes,” Eric muttered.

“To The King’s Arms?” Neither responded, eyes still down and mouths in a straight line. “How much have you had to drink tonight?” Once again, no response. Ellie sighed. “All right. Let’s give each other some space tonight, let your neighbors rest. Only water from here on out. Get this sorted in the morning when you’re both up to it.” Miriam stood up to lumber off into the bedroom while Eric stayed on the couch, looking half awake. Ellie looked over at Hardy before looking back at Eric. “Goodnight.”

Eric grunted in reply as he slumped further into the couch, eyes closing. Ellie and Hardy stepped out onto the balcony, shutting the door behind them as Hardy’s mobile began to ring.

“What?” Ellie looked on expectantly as Hardy listened to the other end. “Uh huh… where?... If it isn’t the victim, who called it in?... Okay… Okay, we’ll go there now.” Hardy unceremoniously hung up his mobile. “A manager at Tesco phoned in. She suspects one of her cashiers may have been roughed up by a boyfriend. The employee isn’t talking.”

Within minutes, Ellie and Hardy entered into the harshly lit hallway in the grocery store’s employee area, through a door held open by a manager. “I know it’s not my business,” the manager said, “But I can’t sit back anymore and let it happen. This is the third time she’s come into work with marks on her face in the past couple of months. It ain’t right what he’s doing to her.”

Hardy and Ellie entered into the small employee break room, littered with plastic tables and chairs, humming with the irritating buzz of a vending machine plugged into the corner. Sitting at one of the tables as a young woman in a blue work shirt, visibly pregnant. Heavily lined eyes and dark lacquer couldn’t mask the bruises high on her cheek or the split in her lip. She glanced up at Hardy and Ellie as they entered, and quickly looked down again.

“Sam?” Ellie gently inquired. The young woman didn’t respond. “I’m Ellie Miller, this is Alec Hardy. We’re with Wessex Police.”

Sam looked away. “I don’t want to talk to you.” Hardy noticed how young she really looked, despite the makeup and the bags under her eyes. She couldn’t have been older than 21 or 22. “Deborah needs to sod off. It’s none of her business.”

“She’s concerned about you.” Hardy tried to keep his voice soft. “Can you tell us how you got those injuries?”

Sam briefly touched the cut on her lip before slouching on your elbows and avoiding their gazes. “It’s nothing, just a misunderstanding. Deborah doesn’t get it.”

“How far along are you?” Ellie asked.

“24 weeks. Little girl.”

Ellie smiled. “Do you have a partner? A husband, boyfriend?”

“Um, Christopher, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Do you live together?” Sam nodded. “Did something happen with Christopher?” Sam once again looked away. “Do you feel unsafe at home, Sam?” The young woman’s eyes bore into the plastic table in front of her, unable to look at either of the detectives, before pushing back her chair and standing up.

“My break’s over. I need to get back to work.”

“Before you go,” Hardy interjected. “Take down the number of the station. Save it in your mobile, put it under a woman’s name. You can call us anytime, if you need anything.”

Sam hesitated by the door before removing the phone from her pocket and handing it to Hardy. He programmed in the number before returning the mobile. Sam turned and left without saying anything else, leaving Hardy and Ellie alone in the too-bright break room.

“What can we do? If she isn’t willing to talk to us, we can’t proceed. We can only assume it’s the boyfriend, but those injuries could have come from tripping on the stairs or a random attacker for all we know. Maybe even her own parents.”

Ellie sighed as she and Hardy made their way up the steps towards the front doors of the police station. “She was obviously uncomfortable talking about her boyfriend.”

“Obvious isn’t concrete. At least she can reach us if she needs to.”

As the two approached the door, Ellie heard her name being called from the street. She and Hardy turned to see Henry Wilson jogging towards them. “D.S. Miller! Um…” He glanced over at Hardy. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

Ellie tried not to notice Hardy looking at her as she turned towards Henry. “Um, sure.” She started down the a few steps after him, seeing Hardy still watching them by the door from her peripheral vision. 

Henry cleared his throat. “Well… I wanted to thank you again, for your help and everything. It’s all sorted.”

“Happy to.”

“I was also wondering, um… I don’t know if it’s appropriate to ask, but would you like to get dinner sometime? Unless I’m violating some kind of policy or something.”

“Oh! No… no you’re not. Um, yeah, dinner would be great. I’d like that.”

Henry smiled. “Great! Could I, um…” He looked behind Ellie and she glanced backwards as well. Hardy was still by the front door, out of earshot but still watching them. “Uh, is he okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ellie looked back towards Henry. “That’s my boss. That’s just the way he is.”

“Oh.” Henry reached into his pocket for his mobile. “Could I have your number?”

“Yeah.” Ellie rattled off the number, still aware Hardy was standing behind them. Henry saved her number and pocketed the phone with a grin.

“All right. I’ll call you then.”

“Great.” Ellie smiled back as Henry departed with a wave. She turned and walked up the steps towards Hardy, still holding the door.

“What was that?”

Ellie paused a beat before responding. “Nothing.” She entered the building, not waiting for Hardy to follow.

Closing the door behind him, Hardy couldn’t help but notice a bit of creeping irritation. He started towards CID and tried to push it out of his mind. Why was he bothered by this?


	4. Chapter 4

For the first time, in a long time, Ellie found herself truly, properly nervous. Flipping through the contents of her closet didn’t do much to calm her nerves as she assessed and rejected every item she saw. Pushing back the work suits to survey the contents near the back, Ellie thought about her last first date. It had been nearly 20 years earlier. She ended up marrying and procreating with that one. Technically was still married to that one. Ellie studied a couple of blouses as she idly wondered when the best time during the date would be to bring up the past several years. She had to snort with laughter at the absurdity of her situation, before it dawned on her that Henry probably wouldn’t have asked her to dinner had he been a local.

Ellie ultimately settled on skinny jeans with a navy blue jumper that was low cut enough for a moderate, but not excessive, amount of cleavage. A good halfway point between looking presentable without trying too hard, she decided. After swapping her orange anorak with her wool overcoat several times, Ellie grabbed her purse and started off towards the front door. She paused and looked into her front room. Her father watched the news as Tom scrolled through his phone. Fred, sat on the floor, sent a matchbox car careening into a high speed crash with the legs of the couch.

“I’m, um, heading out for a bit.” None of the three gave her much acknowledgement or showed curiosity as Ellie watched the little metal car bounce against the wall and spin out. “Uh, try not to let Fred stay up too late.”

Tom glanced up as Ellie stepped out of sight. Seated opposite his grandfather, with the wall behind him, Tom was careful to delete his messaging history before removing the app from his mobile. Since his exclusion from school after the porn incident, Ellie made it a regular habit of looking through the smart phone she’d purchased for him on his 17th birthday. Deleting and redownloading apps only when he used them was a fairly easy way for Tom to get around Ellie’s strict “no social media” policy. Tom was careful to delete every DM he sent or received, in the unlikely event Ellie discovered his accounts. If she saw the contents of the messages in the last few days, Tom feared she’s do worse than destroy his phone this time. Ellie would probably single-handedly upend every cell site in Dorset.

So far, Tom had avoided answering many of Joe’s questions, instead choosing to focus on him. His father had a flat to himself in Liverpool, where he worked as a security guard at a dock. Still spent quite a bit of time running and biking, but not doing much else outside of work. However, Joe persisted in asking Tom about his own life, and inquiring after Fred and Ellie. Tom knew that continuing the contact with his father was a mistake, but the warmth of seeing notifications waiting in his inbox was winning over logic.

Hardy deposited several file folders into the drawers of his desk before turning off his computer monitor with a sigh. It had been a relatively quiet day in CID, with plenty of time to sort out paperwork between the lack of callouts and a few scheduled meetings. As he turned off the light and exited his office, Hardy glanced over at Ellie’s empty desk. She’d spent the majority of her day shuffling papers and typing furiously before clocking out precisely at 6:00 without so much as a goodbye. Hardy glanced up at the clock on the wall. Nearly 8:00 now. He wondered if she’d made plans with the bloke he’d seen her with earlier in the week. Hardy tried to ignore the nagging sensation of irritation that reappeared. What was so appealing about a bloody chef who can’t even keep vengeful teenagers from breaking into his own god-forsaken restaurant? Hardy nodded towards Bob as he made his way past the front desk towards the door.

“Sir?” Bob called. “Before you go, you may want to see this.” Hardy approached the desk as Bob swiveled a computer screen in his direction. “We had two calls from the same number within 15 minutes. Both times they hung up. I pulled up the caller’s details.” Hardy studied the screen as a familiar name caught his eye.

Tesco was fairly busy for a Saturday evening. Hardy quickly noticed Sam Davies at her till before grabbing a bottle of water and joining the queue to check out. As the woman in front of him picked up her bags and walked away, Hardy took her spot in front of the register. Sam glanced up and quickly back down once she caught his eye. “All right?” She didn’t respond. Hardy studied the injuries on her face, faded but still apparent under her heavy makeup. He handed Sam cash, which she took wordlessly as she opened her till. “You called the station twice earlier.” Sam continued to stay silent as she counted out his change. “We have access to resources, we can put you in touch with people who can help,” Hardy said quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of others in line. 

“Forty pence,” Sam replied as she handed Hardy several coins. He pocketed the change as he picked up the water bottle.

“Do you need help?”

Sam glanced behind Hardy, and up at him quickly before abruptly looking away. “You need to go,” she said softly, staring down at the counter in front of her. The next man in the queue cleared his throat impatiently as Hardy nodded to Sam before stepping away. As Hardy approached the doors to the car park, he noticed a young man, shoulders back with bravado, eyes sharp and angry, stalking in with a self important gait. Hardy paused for a moment by the front door, watching as the young man stood by the shelves closest to the tills, not doing much to play at shopping. The young man stared down Sam, who was busying herself with scanning and bagging items, and pretending not to notice. 

“…The girls are eleven now. Their stepdad was offered a position in Yeovil, so he moved their mum and them up there earlier this year. So that’s when I decided to relocate down here. I can be close enough to see my kids without being too close to their mother.”

Ellie snickered into her wine at Henry’s admission. They were seated atop the gentle slope of a rocky hill, overlooking the dark beach. Henry had prepared a picnic for dinner, and the pair sat talking, splitting a bottle of merlot and a plate of bruschetta in the relative quiet of the evening.

“Do you miss Bristol?”

“A bit. I go up now and then to attend to business at my restaurants up there, but I’m mostly a silent partner these days. Honestly, Broadchurch has been a nice change of pace. In Bristol, I was mostly doing book keeping, and it’s great to actually cook again.”

“I can’t believe you made all of this. It’s brilliant.” Ellie bit into the bruschetta as Henry looked on.

“I feel like I’ve done all the talking. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Everything! Tell me about yourself, your kids… tell me about fighting crime.”

Ellie had to laugh. “Really, fighting crime? Well… okay, I have two sons. Tom is seventeen, Fred just turned seven. They’re… they’re wonderful, really, but they’re both bloody disasters.” Henry guffawed as Ellie continued. “I’m trying. Honestly, I was never the primary parent until I became the only parent. I do have help from family. My sister lives in the area, so does my dad… actually, he lives with me. He moved in a few years ago, after my mum died, and has been criticizing me ever since.” After a few glasses of wine, Ellie felt enough liquid courage to keep going. “I need to be honest with you, Henry. I didn’t really know how to bring this up, but… their father… he killed Tom’s best friend, and got off on technicalities. He’d been grooming Danny, and… and I didn’t know anything about it until be turned himself in. It still kills me everyday that I didn’t see it.” Henry listened while Ellie took another sip before continuing. “He was in custody a few months before his trial, and I wish I had started divorce proceedings then. I thought for sure he’d just plead guilty and get convicted, and then I’d hire a solicitor after, but I missed my chance. I can’t pursue anything now, because I can’t risk the possibility that he could petition for custody. So until he drops dead or gets put away for good, I’m stuck.” Ellie gave Henry a rueful smile. “I’m sure this is all very appealing, and I will not be offended if you run for it. Just leave the wine.”

Henry drank from his own glass before returning her smile. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?”

“The woman who runs the chemist down the street from The Elk is a bit of a gossip. I actually knew about your husband.”

“Seriously? And you’re still mad enough to ask me out?”

Henry laughed. “Well, not every detail, obviously. And I did hear about it when it happened. It was national news. I didn’t really follow the story at the time, but I remembered it was around here.”

“And you just let me go on like that?”

Henry shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. “Well, everyone’s got a past, right? Also, I find you quite fit, and I enjoyed watching you give Wren and Toby the bollocking.”

Ellie burst out laughing at his comment as Henry leaned in to kiss her gently. After a moment, Ellie reciprocated. She wasn’t yet entirely sure about Henry, or her situation, or anything, really, but in the peaceful darkness of the windy hillside, she decided to give in and enjoy the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

Joe’s heart pounded as he read and reread Tom’s latest messages. Every notification he received, no matter how much or little Tom had to say, made Joe’s head buzz. Tom hadn’t had much to share in his first messages, but after a couple of weeks, he seemed to warm up and started volunteering more information about his life. Tom was finishing up school, and still playing football on a regular basis. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do in the future, and was considering pursuing further studies in technology. Fred was seven, and their mum had enrolled him in football and swimming in an attempt to wear him out. Joe hadn’t realized he’d been holding in a breath as he read. Every message – every word – was a window into the life he so desperately craved. One that had been ripped away from him. One he wanted back.

The station was as full as Hardy had seen it before. He entered the building and walked into the residuals of a mini crime spree. The residents of an entire block of flats – located just west of the station, of course - awoke to find that someone had entered their car park in the night and smashed in the windows of every single vehicle. No fewer than fourteen angry residents were reporting vandalized cars and stolen items. Hardy immediately exited the building and peered over the steps towards the block, where he saw Patterson, among many other P.C.s, mingling with more car owners, taking notes and surveying the glittering shards of glass on the pavement.

Reentering the lobby, Hardy spotted Miller trying to edge in a word with an angry woman holding a toddler. “Ma’am, if I could just –“

“I don’t bloody have time for this! I have work at eleven, and I need to drop my son by the child minder’s before then. My car doesn’t have a window anymore, so what am I supposed to do?”

“I know it must be frustrating. If I could get your details…” Ellie handed the woman a clipboard and a pen as she spotted Hardy. “Please include the year and make of your vehicle, along with any missing items.” 

Ellie shifted her way through the crowded lobby towards Hardy. “Bloody fucking Christ!” she hissed. “This is a disaster.”

Hardy surveyed the buzzing room. “Right. Where are we at the moment?”

Ellie grabbed several more paper-loaded clipboards from the front desk’s counter. “Patterson just brought in the CCTV footage from the block and the car park. Our cameras may have been able to see as well, but I haven’t had an opportunity to have a look.”

“Are you coming upstairs?”

“In a bit. We’ve got a rhythm worked out down here, just need to sort out everyone’s details first. For fuck’s sake,” she sighed. “If they’re so brazen as to do this outside the station, who the hell knows what’s next?”

Miller stepped back into the crowd, distributing clipboards and pens to waiting residents as Hardy squeezed his way towards the lifts. Stepping out into the relative peacefulness of the CID, he entered his office and was intercepted by a young D.C. holding a USB drive. “Sir, we’ve got nearby CCTV footage.”

Hardy nodded in approval as the D.C. loaded the USB drive into his computer. They watched two figures, tall and lanky but otherwise unrecognizable in large hoodies, faces covered with bandanas. The pair smashed through car windows with an emergency hammer as gloved hands shoved stolen items from the vehicles into a light blue backpack. Hardy and the D.C. spent about half an hour studying the viewpoints of different cameras until Ellie knocked suddenly, opening the door. Hardy peered up at her from over his glasses. “Are you finished downstairs?”

“No, but we’ve got a shout. There was a disturbance at the Tesco. A Christopher Rhys has been apprehended by constables who arrived first on scene.”

“Right,” said Hardy, as realization sank in. He shrugged his suit jacket back on and turned towards the D.C. “Keep watching. Get a height measurement on those two, look for brands on clothing, anything that might be identifiable.”

The D.C. nodded and turned back towards the screen as Ellie and Hardy departed.

Hardy pulled in front of the Tesco and parked behind a sedan bearing the Wessex Police logo and an ambulance. He and Ellie walked in past curious shoppers and right into the eye line of Deborah, the shift manager. “Thanks for coming,” said Deborah, shoving her hands into the pockets of her trousers and slouching slightly.

“Can you tell us what happened?”

“Christopher Rhys came in and had a go at Sam Davies. She was talking to a customer when he walked in, and Christopher blew. Punched the customer, grabbed Sam by the shoulders, and started screaming at her. Called her a slag and shoved her before another cashier pulled him off. Your lot showed up pretty quickly afterwards.”

“How’s the customer?” Hardy and Ellie followed Deborah’s gaze to a middle aged man, seated on a bench near the exit, getting looked over by a paramedic.

“Okay, hopefully. He’s a teacher at the secondary school. Sam was one of his pupils, as were most the kids who work here.”

“Have you seen Christopher here before?” Ellie inquired.

Deborah sighed. “He’s here every time Sam has a shift, without fail. It doesn’t matter what her schedule is, he always comes in to watch her.”

Hardy raised his brows. “And you allow him in the store?”

“What can we do?” Deborah shrugged. “Until today, he’s not pulled anything, and Sam doesn’t want to hear it.”

“Where is she right now?” Ellie asked.

“Employee break room,” Deborah replied. “Your officers have Christopher in the store security office.”

“Thank you.” Ellie and Hardy walked away from Deborah. “I’ll talk to Sam Davies,” Ellie said. “I’ll see if I can get through to her.” Hardy nodded as a P.C. beckoned him towards the security office.

Ellie peaked into the employee break room to find it empty. Looking back into the hall, she noticed an exit ajar, held open by a brick. Ellie pushed her way through the door and out behind the store to find Sam, sat atop several pallets and smoking. Sam glanced up as Ellie appeared, and looked back down.

“I don’t need the judgment,” Sam said glumly, taking a drag off her cigarette.

Ellie shook her head. “I’m not,” she replied. She took a seat at the opposite end of the pallets. “All right?”

Sam continued to stare at the ground in front of her and didn’t reply.

“If you’d like, we can have the paramedics look you over,” Ellie said gently. 

“I’m fine,” Sam said in a monotone as she fiddled with her cigarette.

There was a brief lull as Ellie looked over at Sam. “D.I. Hardy told me that you’d called the station a couple weeks back but hung up before anyone could talk to you.”

“I don’t know how he knew that was me.”

“We’re able to access the registrations attached to phone numbers. Were you looking for help?”

“I changed my mind. It was nothing.”

“Sam, with all due respect, this doesn’t seem like nothing.” Sam turned away from Ellie as she placed the cigarette back in her mouth. “We can get you in touch with organizations who can get you into a safe environment. We can get help for both you and the baby. She doesn’t have to grow up like this.”

“I don’t want to press changes.”

“That’s not up to you, I’m afraid,” Ellie replied.

Sam suddenly became angry. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford a baby on my own. I’m 21. I didn’t finish school. I’ve been with Christopher since I was fourteen, and I’m out of options.”

“You’re not, Sam,” Ellie insisted. “Let us work with you.”

Sam stood up suddenly and mashed her cigarette under her trainer. “Piss off,” she said, disappearing back into the building and leaving Ellie alone.

Inside the security office, Christopher Rhys sat scowling as two officers looked on. Hardy entered the room. 

“Christopher Rhys?” Hardy inquired, only to be met with the young man’s daggered stare. “What’s all this, then? Punching a man out because he spoke to a former pupil?” Christopher didn’t reply. “How old are you, son?”

“The fuck does that matter?” Christopher scowled.

“Certainly you should be old enough to know to keep your hands to yourself and off the mother of your child.”

“You don’t know what she’s like,” Christopher snapped back.

“Doesn’t bloody matter. What kind of man assaults the person he loves?” Hardy nodded at the officers, who stoop up and approached Christopher. “Christopher Rhys, I’m arresting you for two counts of assault. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense when questioned something which you later rely on in court…”

The P.C.s loaded Christopher into their sedan as Ellie and Hardy entered his car. “How did it go?” Hardy asked as he started the ignition.

“Not well,” Ellie replied. “She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want resources and stormed away when I told her that Christopher would be charged.”

Hardy groaned. “Why does she want to protect that bastard?”

“She’s scared,” Ellie shrugged. “Been with him ages, and doesn’t know what else to do. The best we can hope for is that the chief super will allow us to hold him without bail after he’s been charged.”

“That girl has her blinders on. Love will do that to a person.”

“It happens to everybody, especially when you’re young. Nobody wants to know the truth.”

“Exactly.” Hardy glanced over at Ellie. She noticed his look, and returned it with a brow furrowed in confusion.

“What?” 

Hardy looked back towards the road. “Nothing.”

Ellie stared him down. “No, not nothing, what are you trying to say?”

“Just… it’s hard to understand people.”

“Are you implying something?”

“No… just… that bloke from the restaurant, how much do you really know about him?”

“He has a name. It’s Henry. I know enough about him. Why, does he have some horrible secret you’ve dug up?”

“No – just – it’s just – you really can’t be too trusting of people. Especially with your situation.”

“My situation? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Hardy didn’t respond, and Ellie lashed out. “You think I’m a bloody idiot, don’t you?”

“For Christ’s sake, no.”

“You think, just because of Joe, I –“ Ellie couldn’t finish the statement. “I’m not fucking stupid, you know, I can take care of myself. Do you think anyone I try it on with is automatically going to be a deviant or a psychopath? Is my judgment that poor?”

“Miller, I’m sorry, I – I’m just concerned. I don’t want to see you get hurt again, that’s all.”

Ellie laughed incredulously as Hardy pulled into the station’s car park. “I don’t fucking believe this. I’m not going to take this shit from you.” She opened the door and climbed out scarcely before Hardy stopped the car. Ellie turned towards the building, and momentarily looked back down into the car to glare at Hardy. “When you were with your accountant friend, I was happy for you.” Slamming the door, Ellie stalked off into the station, leaving Hardy alone inside his car.

Tom sat in his back garden, leaning against the side of the house with his mobile in his hands. In front of him, Fred tore around the lawn, kicking a football over and over again against the aluminum siding of the shed, shrieking with joy every time it bounced back towards him. Tom barely heard the slamming as he studied the most recent message from his father.

Would you send me a picture of you and Fred? It’s been ages, and I’m dying to get a look at you two.

Trepidation chilled Tom’s stomach as he considered the request. It had been a few weeks, and his father’s messages were nothing but polite. They’d done loads of catching up, but nothing in their conversations had made Tom uncomfortable. Was sending a photo different? What harm could one picture do? It’s not like their dad wouldn’t recognize them if he saw them, and anyway, he was miles away in Liverpool. Tom flipped open the picture app.

“Hey, Fred,” he called. “Come take a selfie with me.”

Fred hopped up to lean over his left shoulder. Tom gave a subdued smile as Fred pulled a face and cracked up at his own image. He captured a few snaps before Fred ran back to his ball. Taking a sharp breath in, Tom sent the image to his father.


	6. Chapter 6

Hardy entered CID with trepidation. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to Miller after the blowup in the car. By the time he’d left the car park and reentered CID the previous day, Miller was already seated at her desk, staring down CCTV footage from the vandalized cark park, leaning on one hand while navigating the mouse with the other. Hardy decided to give her space, and instead, called on another D.S. to join him in questioning an unremorseful Christopher Rhys. Miller was gone for the evening before he returned to the office. With a sigh, Hardy realized the penalty for crossing the invisible barrier with Ellie was the cold shoulder.

Ellie was, once again, seated at her computer without so much as an acknowledgement of Hardy’s presence or a glance in his direction. She was reviewing a paper-clipped stack of documents as Hardy approached. Ellie didn’t look up as he shifted awkwardly next to her desk.

“Miller.” Hardy tried to get her attention before Ellie interrupted him.

“The car park vandals ran into an alley behind the block after they finished up. The building has CCTV back there, but it only monitors an entrance. We’re pulling nearby footage to see where they went. There are no good leads at the moment. Oh, and CPS will proceed with the charges against that bastard from Tesco, but declined our request to deny him bail.”

Ellie handed Hardy some of her paperwork as he considered it with a burrowed brow. “For Christ’s sake! They’re gonna allow him out there?”

“There are conditions on his release. He’s not to approach Samantha Davies or return to their flat or her employer. I’ve spoken to some of our P.C.s already, and they’re going to patrol her block and the Tesco.”

“Right.” Hardy paused. “Well done.” Ellie continued to ignore Hardy as she shuffled through the stack of papers in her hands, pausing to annotate one with a pen. Hardy hesitated before speaking again. “I’m sorry.” Ellie just scoffed. “I overstepped.”

“I really don’t understand why you’re so bothered.”

“I’m not. It’s just…” Hardy couldn’t formulate any finish to that statement. Instead, he tried deference. “Um, I’m going to the kitchen. Tea?”

Ellie wordlessly held up a takeaway cup. “Henry got it for me, so it’s probably strychnine.” For the first time that morning, she met Hardy’s gaze as she took a deliberate sip from the container. Hardy could take the hint.

“Right.” 

Hardy walked away from Ellie, making his way towards the kitchenette as she read and reread the same lines on a memo without actually seeing the words.

On his way to school, Tom pulled out his mobile and gave his messages a discreet check. Nothing. Since sending his father the picture, Tom hadn’t received any responses. That was unusual. Joe nearly always replied to Tom straight away, regardless of how long Tom waited between their messages. Tom pocketed the phone as an array of different emotions swept over him. Confusion. Relief. And a bit of disappointment.

Unbeknownst to Tom, miles away, George Neeley hadn’t shown up for work at the docks that morning.

The day dragged on under a steady pile of work and plenty of monotony. The lack of callouts was balanced by numerous dead ends in assessing the car park thieves. No tips, few identifying details, and frustratingly few leads ate up time as Ellie and Hardy worked in their respective areas. Patrolling officers reported no sightings of Christopher Rhys at Tesco or outside his flat. As evening settled, with little progress made, Hardy decided to leave the uncomfortable atmosphere of the CID. Suddenly, as he pulled on his coat, the idea of returning to his empty house seemed daunting. The lack of purpose he’d felt living in Broadchurch had suddenly become almost a fear. His daughter wouldn’t settle here, he felt no direction with his career, and even Miller was moving on. Was this all there was?

As Hardy froze in his office, momentarily paralyzed by the realization, Ellie opened the door and stuck her head in, giving him a somewhat defeated look. “The front desk called. It’s the MacMillans again.” 

Hardy glanced at the clock on his walls. “It’s only half seven. Bit early for them.”

Ellie sighed. “I know, but the neighbors heard glass breaking and…” Her voiced trailed. “If you’re heading out, I can ask some P.C.s to stop by. Really no point in us going.”

“No. Let’s go.”

Hardy shrugged on his coat and followed Ellie out of CID, somewhat grateful for the distraction.

Sam Davies entered her quiet flat after a long day at the till. She took a long look around the front room. The walls were scuffed, not only from normal wear and tear, but from objects that had been thrown by Christopher. They owned scarce furniture, and what they did have was shabby and second hand. The threadbare couch, honey oak coffee table, and shelving unit had been hand-me-downs from Sam’s aunt a few years before. Sam studied the unit. It was large, consisting of glass shelves on a brass frame, a gaudy throwback to a long-gone era of decorating. It was far too rickety to hold their television, among its pictures and knickknacks, but it stayed due to a lack of better options. Its contents chattered against the glass if anyone walked too heavily nearby, as it often did when Christopher stormed through the flat. Sam lightly tapped the frame and listened to its distinctive rattle, almost comforting in its familiarity. There’s no way the shelves could remain with a baby in the flat, she realized. They could come down far too easily under the pull of a little body. Thoughts of baby proofing were momentarily overtaken by the need for the loo. Now in her third trimester, Sam felt that half of her day was spent in the toilet.

As she finished up and washed her hands, Sam missed the sound of keys in the lock. She reentered her front room and jolted with shock as she saw Christopher, standing by the couch with her mobile in his hand. Sam’s purse had been upended onto the couch, its contents falling between cushions and laying on the floor.

“You can’t be here,” Sam gasped.

Christopher didn’t respond. He continued to scroll through the mobile, pausing to read its content. “Who’s Delilah?”

“What?” Christopher held the phone out as Sam felt ice in her stomach. There, disguised under a woman’s name, was the number of the Wessex Police Department. She tried her best to detract. “She works with me at Tesco. She just started.”

Christopher looked back down at the mobile, so quiet that he left Sam more frightened than when he was in a rage. “You’ve called this number. You only stayed on the line for a few seconds.”

“It’s nothing. I just had a question about the schedule, but then I remembered and I didn’t have to talk to her.” Christopher continued to peruse the phone, not responding. He hit the call button, turning on the speaker. Sam felt the panic bubble up as she approached Christopher. “Chris, I –“

“Wessex Police Department,” announced a voice on the line. Both Christopher and Sam froze, unable to move or speak. “Hello? Wessex Police.”

Christopher hung up the phone and threw it down to the coach as tears pricked at Sam’s eyes. “Christopher, please –“ He lunged out and grabbed her by the hair, causing her to yelp in pain.

“I don’t fucking believe you. You called the bloody police on me?”

“I didn’t,” Sam sobbed. “I swear.”

“You fucking bitch!” Christopher roared. “You stitched me up!”

“Let go of me,” Sam pleaded. His grasp on her hair make her scalp burn. Unmoved, Christopher yanked harder, forcing Sam’s face close to his.

“It’s your bloody fault I spent the night in a police station. If you weren’t such a goddamn whore I wouldn’t have to worry you’re out there shagging every man in sight!” Christopher released Sam’s hair and shoved into her with both hands. She stumbled, catching the end of the coffee table with her leg and falling backwards into the shelving unit. Horrified, Christopher looked on as the shelves and their contents came crashing down around Sam. She lay among the glass and metal, stunned and unmoving. Sam grasped at her own neck, crimson flowing out and darkening her work shirt. Unable to speak or react, all Sam could do was stare at Christopher as her head buzzed and flecks of light danced in her peripheral vision.

In the MacMillan’s desolate flat, Hardy tried to keep his annoyance at bay as Ellie tried her best to reason with Miriam and Eric. “Look at you both. Why are letting a misunderstanding cause so much grief?”

“I don’t bloody trust her, Detective. She’s stepped out on me before and she flirts with everyone. How do I know she’s not out there fucking someone else?”

“For Christ’s sake, Eric, I’m not –“ Hardy was thankful that the buzz of his mobile spared him listening to the MacMillans rehash the same drunken argument they had every time he and Miller answered a call. Hardy stepped aside as Ellie continued to listen to Eric’s lamentations. 

“What?”

“Sir, we received another call from Samantha Davies. She hung up before speaking. Uniform looked in on her flat, found her badly injured. They’ve got Christopher Rhys in custody. Paramedics have already taken her to emergency.”

Hardy drew in a sharp breath. “We’re on our way.” Hanging up, he turned to Ellie. “Miller, we’re leaving.” Pointing a reprimanding finger at the MacMillans, he ordered, “You two. Knock it off.” Ellie gave him a curious look as she followed him out. “Christopher Rhys made it back into his flat. Sam Davies has been taken to hospital. We need to get there now.” 

Ellie unlocked her car as they jogged down the steps, wasting no time to climb in and peel out of the parking lot. It was a short drive to Sam and Christopher’s block. Curious residents milled about outside, speckled with blue and yellow from police lights. Ellie stopped the car at the curb. She followed Hardy up the stairs and past an officer guarding the police-taped hallway. They both froze at the sight in the flat. Sam Davies’ purse and mobile remained abandoned on the shabby couch, which sat opposite the twisted remains of the shelving unit, broken and blood-soaked. Smears on the linoleum, a couple of yards away from the wreckage, suggested that Sam hadn’t remained where she fell. P.C. Patterson approached Ellie and Hardy at their position by the front door, clearing his throat.

“Sir.”

Hardy looked up at him. “Patterson, call SOCO, we need to get them in here and assess what happened. I want an update on Samantha Davies’ condition as well.”

“Well, it’s just that, sir. She had a weak pulse when the paramedics arrived, and became unresponsive in the ambulance. They, um…” Patterson’s young face was chalky. “They said she didn’t survive.”

Ellie let out a breath as Hardy remained stunned. He forced himself to regain composure. “Right… keep the residents out of this hall. Get statements from people in the neighboring units. I want to know what they heard. I want a solicitor and an interview room arranged for Christopher Rhys as soon as possible.”

Patterson nodded gravely. “Sir.” He walked away, speaking into his radio as Hardy made his way towards the exit, Ellie on his heels. They didn’t speak as they reentered her car. Hardy braced himself against the glove compartment as he breathed in sharply. Ellie looked on as she bucked her seat belt.

“You okay?”

Hardy fixated on the dash in front of him. “Bloody hell, Miller… This was preventable.”

“I know,” she responded softly.

“There were so many factors, so many things that could have gone differently… the bail, the timing of the officers on patrol, if she’d just accepted bloody help… that woman would still be alive.”

Hardy continued to grip Ellie’s dashboard as he shook with anger. To his surprise, he felt her hand against his back, below his shoulder blades. The soothing gesture did alleviate some of his tension, if only momentarily. Ellie gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before removing her hand to start the car.

Christopher Rhys’ self-importance and arrogance fell away as he realized the gravity of his actions. No longer able to hide behind his bravado, he readily admitted to abusing Samantha Davies and shoving her down. By the time he was charged and booked into custody, the long night had passed and a new day had dawned. Ellie decided take an hour to go home and shower before returning to work to sort out the last hours of Sam Davies’ life.

Ellie entered her house, hanging her purse from the banister and crouching down to pick up a handful of mail by the front door. “Hello?” she called out as she flipped through the post. No answer. Tom and Fred were a couple hours into their school days already, and it occurred to Ellie that she didn’t know what her father got up to most days when she was at work. Didn’t stay home, apparently. Ellie entered the kitchen, sorting assorted bills out from the adverts at the countertop, when a sudden uneasiness fell over her. She glanced up at the kitchen door, leading out into the back garden. Dread settled in as she realized that the door stood ajar, its glass pane broken. Ellie quietly set down the post and stood frozen in place, considering her next step. Her mobile and her keys were in her purse, hanging by the front door. If no one had been in the entry on her way in, she could probably make it out to her car, she decided. Ellie turned to exit, only to discover she was now face to face with Joe.


	7. Chapter 7

Ellie could scarcely breathe as she stood, back against the wall, just centimeters away from her estranged husband. Joe, eyes wet, almost chuckled with disbelief as he looked at her. “Ellie,” he said shakily. “You’re here.”

Still frozen in place, Ellie’s eyes darted around the kitchen, looking for something she could use in self defense. A bottle, a knife, a pan, anything. Nothing close enough to reach. Not wanting to let Joe out of her line of sight, she looked back towards him, shaking her head. “You have to leave, Joe.” The words barely came out. “Please, just go.”

Still smiling incredulously, Joe came closer as Ellie tensed up. “You grew your hair out. It’s pretty.” Joe reached towards her ponytail as Ellie pushed herself as far against the wall as possible, her hands up in a defensive position.

“Do not touch me,” she hissed.

Joe lowered his hand as Ellie’s remained up. She wondered if he’d noticed how hers shook. Joe looked confused. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s… what’s wrong? How can you say that, Joe?”

“I came back, El. I want to start over. I’ve missed you so much.” Joe’s glossy stare had the unmistakable sheen of delusion. Ellie’s heart pounded as she considered her options. Could she try to reason with him long enough to get away? Could she fight him off if necessary?

“That’s… that’s not going to happen, Joe. I need you to leave, right now.” 

“When do the boys get home?”

“You won’t see them.”

Joe blinked, not understanding. “No, I will. I’ve been talking to Tom. He’s told me so much. He wants to see me, I know it.”

Ellie’s thoughts raced as she wondered when her father would return. She realized with dread that an 80 year old man wouldn’t be able to defend himself. Keep calm, she ordered herself, not dropping Joe’s gaze. “You’re confused. You haven’t been speaking with Tom. You’re mistaken, Joe.” Ellie tried to keep her voice soft.

Joe dropped his smile. “I have… I have, Ellie. Tom tells me everything. My sons need me. I want my family back.”

“No. You’ve got to leave them alone. They don’t want to see you.” Joe shook his head in anger as he reached out, grabbing Ellie by her wrists as her hands remained up. She gasped, frightened by the hardness in his eyes. “I’m expected back at work, Joe, they’re going to call round here if I’m not there soon. Please, just go.”

“Why won’t you let me see my children? What have you been saying to them?” Joe tightened his grip on her arms.

“We have a life here, Joe.” Ellie could barely speak. “It’s been a difficult few years, but we’re moving forward and it has to be without you. They’re not safe with you around.”

Joe inched towards her face, eyes boring down into her. His hold on her wrists was so tight that Ellie idly wondered if it was possible for him to break her bones with just his hands. “You’re a liar. You bitch,” he breathed. “I’m not that man.” Ellie couldn’t respond. She felt faint as she realized she might not see her children again. However, self preservation and anger surged through her as she let the calm demeanor fade. 

“Look at yourself. You’re delusional. This isn’t your home anymore, and we’re not your family. Your shit has cost me everything, and I’ll sooner die than let you get near my children.”

“You liar. You’re a goddamn liar!” Joe yelled out as he dropped Ellie’s wrists. She made an attempt to push past him, but Joe was too fast. He threw Ellie’s sideways into the kitchen wall, hard enough to crack and bloody the batten. Joe froze in shock as Ellie slumped to the ground.

In CID, the work day passed quickly as Hardy attended to the details of Sam Davies’ death. Sitting down with the chief super, talking with media officers, reading reports from various P.C.s, and meeting with the coroner kept him busy enough that it was several hours before he realized Miller hadn’t returned to the office. Hardy phoned her earlier on his way to collect information from the A&E, but she hadn’t answered and he didn’t follow up. Brow furrowed, he rang again, hanging up at the generic voicemail greeting.

Where are you?

Hardy sent off the text and kept his eyes on his mobile. Message delivered, with no indication of it being read or Ellie responding. Surely she wasn’t still angry about their argument? Hardy couldn’t shake off a slight uneasiness, but was soon interrupted by a D.C. and a handful of documents that needed signatures.

Miles away, officers in Axmouth responded to calls about a suicidal man standing on the outer edge of a bridge, threatening to jump. Constables and paramedics stood at the ready as a negotiator calmly reasoned with Joe Miller, who stared past the blood on his shirt and down into the rocky ravine below.

Hardy checked his phone. Four calls, three texts, no answer. He rung up Miller once again, this time leaving voicemail. “Miller, wondering where you are. Can you please just ring me?” No sooner had Hardy hung up that his mobile buzzed. Not a text from Ellie, but from Daisy. Hardy was glad for the distraction as they relayed a few messages. She’d seen the news reports of Samantha Davies’ death and wanted to check in. They made tentative plans for Daisy to visit the following weekend, once a bit of the dust had settled. The exchange left Hardy a bit warmer before the concern over Miller’s absence once again took over. Deciding to check by her house, Hardy stood up to pull on his coat as his the phone on his desk rang.

Sighing at the holdup, with one arm in his coat, Hardy answered. “What?”

“D.I. Hardy? This is Caroline Crandall. I’m a D.C.I. with the East Devon Police Department.”

“Yes? What is this concerning?”

“We have a Joseph Miller sectioned and detained in hospital. He was picked up after an attempted suicide. Officers managed to talk him down.”

Hardy held his breath, still half wearing his coat, as he sat back down. “Okay. What’s going on?”

“It’s hard to say. There’s some blood on his clothing, but hospital staff haven’t seen any indication that it’s his. Don’t get excited – but – he’s delirious. I –“ D.C.I. Crandall’s clipped voice paused on the other end of the line. “I followed the Danny Latimer case and trial. He’s said several times he killed his boy’s best friend.” 

Hardy exhaled and leaned back in his chair. Bob Daniels rapped on the office door, opening it quickly. “Sir?” he inquired.

Hardy held up his index finger as he continued to listen to the phone. “It’s not a sure thing if we can treat this as a confession, though,” Crandall continued. “He’s had two constables with him at all times, my officers and hospital staff are under strict orders not to ask him any questions, and I’ve contacted CPS and we’re arranging for a solicitor. If we can use this, we will.”

“Right. Did he ever say Daniel Latimer’s name?”

“Sir?” Bob repeated, with more urgency.

D.C.I. Crandall sighed. “No, unfortunately. He’s garbled and the doctors don’t want to delay medicating him any longer. There’s a lot of details not marrying up, though, so this may not go anywhere. He keeps saying he killed his wife – does that mean anything to you?”


	8. Chapter 8

Just the antiseptic smell and the sting of florescent lights in the A&E waiting room was enough to raise Hardy’s blood pressure on the most normal of days. At that moment, he had his mobile pressed to one ear, finger in the other, as he tried to ignore the din of the hospital in order to make out the Chief Super on the other end of the line.

“I mean it, Alec, hands off this one. CPS agrees. Our officers and local paramedics will give their reports to the East Devon Constabulary. They’re to lead any investigation.”

“Bloody hell, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely am. We need to avoid the appearance of impropriety.” The Chief Super sighed. “We don’t want to do anything to prejudice this inquiry. Look, you may not end up with the result you wanted, but Joe Miller will be charged, at the very least for burglary and assault.”

At the very least. Hardy ended the call and leaned back in his seat, running his hands through his hair. Inactivity, as well as a lack of answers, seemed to heighten the waiting room’s inhospitality.

As soon as Tom entered the school’s main office, he felt uneasy. The sight of two suited individuals, unfamiliar in appearance but unmistakable as law enforcement, did nothing to alleviate his fears. They turned towards the doors as he entered, immediately wearing smiles that intended to be affable but continued to unnerve Tom.

“Tom Miller?” inquired one of the suits as Tom nodded in affirmation. The man gestured towards the open door of an empty conference room. “Please, would you join us?” Tom walked in with trepidation as a school administrator and receptionist played at considering some paperwork from their position behind the counter. Tom took a seat and breathed shakily as one of the officers closed the door and joined him at the table.

“I’m Allen Weatherly,” said the man gently. “I’m a D.I. with the East Devon Police. This –“ He gestured towards his companion. “-Is Michael Fitzsimons. He’s one of our family resource officers.”

Tom’s eyes darted between the two men. “What’s going on?”

“Your mum’s in hospital, Tom. Your grandfather came home from shopping and found her unconscious in the kitchen. Someone broke in and attacked her. We –“ The officer cleared his throat. “Your father is under a protective hold in Devon. We have concerns about his mental health. Right now, we’re trying to see if he had any connection to what happened to your mother.”

Tom could scarcely move. “My – my dad was here?”

“We believe so, yes.”

“Is my mum okay?”

“She’s being looked after. The doctors wanted to perform some tests to get the best idea of what’s happened.”

“Oh my god.” The words barely came out as a whisper as Tom leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The last several weeks of messages danced through his head as his thoughts raced. “I – I think I made a mistake.” Tom could hear the crack in his own voice.

D.I. Weatherly’s voice was soft. “What do you mean, Tom?”

“I’ve been – we’ve been talking. My dad found me on Twitter a few weeks ago and messaged me. We’ve been messaging every day, but it all seemed so normal. He didn’t say anything weird. I thought – maybe he was different now or something. I know it was wrong, I know what he did, but –“ Tom could feel the tears pricking at his eyes, and not even teenage machismo could prevent them. “-I’ve missed him. He wanted a picture of me and Fred, and after I sent one a few days ago, he didn’t respond. Was he –“ Tom couldn’t find the words to formulate a question.

D.I. Weatherly jotted some notes onto a pad as Tom spoke. “Do you have the messages on your phone?”

Tom shook his head. “I’ve been deleting them as soon as I read them. My mum would have lost it if she found out.”

Weatherly nodded. “We’ve been in contact with your aunt. You, your brother, and your grandfather will stay with her for a few days. We’ll take you there now.”

“Where’s Fred?”

“Some of our officers took your grandfather to pick him up from the primary school. He’s safe.”

Tom absentmindedly nodded as he stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking after the officers in a daze.

“…The CT scan looked clean. Luckily, the ligaments in her neck and shoulders were only bruised. It’s painful, but she won’t need surgery. When she comes in to have the staples removed in a few days, we’ll further evaluate her for any signs of traumatic brain injury. Hopefully, we’re just looking at a concussion and not something with long term effects.”

Hardy looked over at Ellie as the doctor continued to speak. She was sleeping in a recovery area, the left side of her face peppered with purple and gray, hair still matted from dried blood. 

“Call down to the nurse’s station if you need anything.” Hardy nodded as the doctor departed. He tentatively approached Ellie, still fast asleep under the hospital’s generic linens. Hardy gingerly picked up her right arm to get a closer look at the distinctive pattern of bruising encircling her wrist. Anger suddenly raged through Hardy. Where did Joe get off? He carefully lowered Ellie’s arm back down, gently placing the flat of his hand over the bruises with a ghost of a touch before sitting down.

It wasn’t long before Hardy was roused from his own dosing by Ellie struggling to get herself in a seated position. He stood to hover close as she made her away up, seemingly short of breath. After a repose, she looked up a Hardy. “Where are my kids?” Ellie’s voice came out scratchy from underuse.

“At your sister’s, with your father. They’re safe.”

Ellie nodded as she tried uncomfortably to sit back. “Tell me what’s happened.”

“Joe’s in Devon. He threatened to jump from a bridge, and he’s been sectioned and detained in hospital. The Chief Super said that we’re not to be involved. It’s East Devon’s investigation now. They said – they said he referenced Danny Latimer, but not directly. They’re consulting with CPS to see if they can treat it as a confession.” Ellie let out a breath and stared down at the sheets in front of her. Hardy continued softly. “Was this Joe?”

“Yeah,” Ellie sighed. “I went in the house, I was in the kitchen, I saw the back door was broken. Just as I turned to leave, he was… just there. Kept saying he wanted to come back, that he’d been talking to Tom.” She shook her head. “I really thought it was all over at that point.” Ellie raised her hands to her temples, grimacing in pain as she made contact with her injuries. “Christ. What am I supposed to tell Beth? She was so angry when Mark went to Liverpool a couple summers back. It just seems like, with Joe, every time we get some distance, something upends it.” Ellie paused, looking nauseated as she took in a few short breaths. “I’m gonna –“

Hardy quickly grabbed a blue emesis bag from a wall dispenser, and held it out to Ellie as she wretched into it. As she continued to be sick, Hardy sat with her, hand on her back, as he considered how even tying up loose ends with Joe just continued to result in more questions.

A couple days later, Ellie, released from the hospital and on the mend, stood back in her kitchen, open tool chest by her feet. She studied the batten against the kitchen walls, still bearing a crack, along with dried blood and a few distinctive marks of remaining fingerprint powder. Her father and children were still at Lucy’s – and probably ready to tear each other’s throats out, Ellie realized – but she was determined to erase any reminders of the events of the week before the boys returned home the next day. Picking up a crowbar, Ellie was easily able to remove the paneling from the wall, a few errant nails falling to the floor in the process. As she picked them up, she decided that the section of wall was narrow enough to paint over, rather than recreate the batten outright.

“All right?” A repairman appeared at the back entrance, empty of its door. “So the frame is bent, and will need replacing as well. I need to pop into my shop for some parts, but I’ll be back within the hour.” He looked over at Ellie and gestured to the section of batten she held. “I can take that off your hands, if you want.” As the repairman took the paneling from her, he attempted a reassuring smile. “We’ll set you up with a solid door, alright?”

Ellie tried to return the smile as he departed, hauling away the broken remains of both the door and the batten. She pulled some sand paper from her toolbox and began to smooth down irregular bumps on the wall, previously concealed by the paneling. The scrubbing motion aggravated Ellie’s sore shoulder as she gingerly moved her neck side to side, attempting to alleviate the pain. No wonder the repairman had looked at her so pathetically. Her faced was still bruised, looking as battered as she felt. 

Over the sanding, Ellie heard a soft knock at the back door. She turned to see Henry looking in. “Hello,” Henry greeted her with an uncertain smile. 

“Henry, hi.” Ellie left the sandpaper on the counter as Henry stepped in, studying the bent frame. He looked back up at Ellie and took in a breath as he studied her bruises with concern. She’d only seen him a few days before, but after the events of the week, it felt like a lifetime had past.

“I was worried. I called a few times, but I never heard back from you. I – I did hear about what happened.”

“Yeah, sorry. I did see your messages. I just haven’t felt much like talking to anyone. It was – my kids’ father, he was here. He’d managed to get a hold of my oldest son online, and they’d been talking. Tom – he’s upset, he thinks this is his fault.” Ellie sighed before continuing, her gaze moving around the room and unable to look up at Henry. “It’s not – I mean, for Joe, I think it was just a matter of time before he pulled something. At least now, we know where he is, and it’s not likely that he’ll be out anytime soon. My mate Beth gave me the number of the solicitor who handled her divorce – I’m meeting with him next week to get this sorted, so…” Ellie trailed off. She finally looked up at Henry’s kind blue eyes behind their dark frames, and realized she was probably a right idiot for what she would say next. “I… I don’t know if it’s a good idea if we see each other anymore.” 

Ellie felt like a monster as a flicker of hurt passed over Henry’s face. “Oh.”

“It’s not you… genuinely. I mean, look at yourself, you’re bloody perfect –“ Henry chuckled slightly through his disappointment. “-But I’m a mess right now, and I hate myself a bit for saying this, but after all this time, I’m still not in a good place to be able to give anything meaningful to someone else. I’m sorry.” Ellie tried her best to stay composed. “You deserve to be with someone who isn’t pulling you under with their issues.”

Henry looked downcast, but he managed a sad smile. “I understand. I do.” He gave Ellie a kiss on the cheek and a gentle squeeze on her arm. “Good luck with everything. Look after yourself.” With that, Henry departed out the empty doorframe, leaving Ellie alone in her kitchen. 

Within a couple of days, life returned to an altered version of normal. Ellie returned to work, ignoring how other officers glanced at her fading bruises. Joe remained in custody, awaiting a mental health evaluation before East Devon CID could finalize their next steps. Christopher Rhys’ court date was scheduled as Samantha Davies and her unborn child were laid to rest. Despite a barrage of angry calls from residents and impatient emails from insurance companies, no headway was made in the car park burglaries. And in spite of it all, the calls kept coming, the monotonous tasks breaking up the doldrums of the day.

Neither Hardy or Ellie were surprised to find themselves back in the MacMillans’ flat that evening, rehashing the same old arguments over infidelity. Hardy listened in as Ellie attempted to keep the peace.

“Miriam, what I don’t understand is, if you’ve both got a history of stepping out, and you’re both afraid it will happen again, why not sit down in the light of day and work it out? No drinks, just talking.”

Miriam scoffed. “Oh, you’re a marriage counselor now?” She wobbled a bit, glass in hand as she leaned in towards Ellie. “How’s your husband?”

Ellie tried not to react to the barb. Hardy was less successful at keeping the annoyance off his face, but didn’t want to undermine Ellie with an interjection.

“Counseling is something you two may want to consider. If you’re determined to make a go of it, you should probably talk to a professional.”

Miriam rolled her eyes as she took a swig from her glass. “What would a professional say about being married to a pedophile, then?”

Ellie fell for the bait this time. “Look, do you want help or not? Stay together, separate, do what you need to do, but stop screaming about it and we wouldn’t be getting calls from your neighbors at all hours anymore.”

“Fuck off, would you?” Without entirely intending to, Miriam tossed her pint in Ellie’s direction, missing her by centimeters as the glass hit the wall and shattered behind her, leaving a trail of beer. The occupants of the room froze – Miriam, realizing she had crossed a line, and Ellie, with a bit of shell shock. After a beat, Hardy took a tentative step in Ellie’s direction, holding out his car keys. “Here,” he said, giving her a small nudge. “I’ll sort this. Go.”

Ellie just nodded before she departed the flat. Miriam and Eric remained still, bracing themselves for what would happen next. Hardy swiveled around to stare them both down. 

“I’ve had enough of the pair of you. Get yourselves into a bloody program, sober up, and make an appointment to work through your shit with a counselor. If I so much get a call from someone else in the block that your TV is too loud, you’ll both be arrested for public nuisance.”

With that, Hardy left, slamming the door behind him. He descended the stairs into the dark car park, otherwise empty of people, where Ellie has taken his seat behind the wheel of his car. He entered the passenger door, looking over at Miller as she stared at his keys, turning them over and over again in her hand. They sat in silence for a long moment.

“I could have stayed. I’m fine.” Hardy watched as she continued to flip the keys. 

“You know, if you need a few more days –“ He stopped speaking as Ellie shook her head.

“It’s just part of the job. Can’t hide from it.” The keys continued to jingle softly as Ellie didn’t return his gaze.

“That’s not what I mean. Look, a lot’s happened lately, and I’m just concerned. You know I actually do bloody care about you, right?”

Ellie stopped fussing with the keys and returned Hardy’s look. She said nothing, but after a moment, leaned in to kiss him.

Hardy was initially caught off guard, but quickly reciprocated. His mind raced at the implications. What was happening? Ellie moved her hands to his shoulders as his fell around her waist. She deepened the kiss as she climbed over the gear shift and onto his lap. Ellie ran her hands down his chest and over the sides of his trunk before untucking his shirt to make contact with his skin. Surprised, Hardy pulled away momentarily.

“Miller, wait-“

Her eyes bore into him, breathing slightly labored. “What?”

“I mean – you’re upset, I want you to be sure about this –“

“I am. I don’t want to talk anymore.” Ellie paused, still staring him down. “Unless you want to stop.”

Hardy was aroused, and there was no way Ellie didn’t know it from her position in his lap. Having sex with a subordinate was probably not the best idea, especially considering the events of the week, but knowing Miller’s stubbornness and considering the confusing jumble of feelings he had for her, desire won out over logic and he resumed the broken kiss. As his hands moved down to the buttons of her blouse, hers dropped from his flank to the front of his trousers. Hardy groaned involuntarily as Ellie undid the buckle of his belt and slid her hand inside.

Snogging furiously, they both paused as they shifted out of their trousers and undergarments in the cramped front seat. Ellie grasped Hardy as she settled herself onto him, both gasping at the sensation. Ellie controlled the pace, holding onto his back as she ground against him slowly. Hardy rolled his head back before making his way to her right ear, lavishing down her neck. Her hands moved from his back to his abdomen and once again under his shirt. Hardy’s lips dropped down to her sternum, exposed from her half-buttoned blouse. He pushed back the cup of her bra to free one of her breasts, taking it in his mouth. Ellie quickened the pace as his other hand reached between her legs. She came suddenly, crying out as Hardy kissed her between her breasts, still touching her. Unable to hold out any longer, Hardy followed with a gasp, pressing his face into her collarbone as he finished.

Neither moved for a moment as they caught their breath. Hardy lifted his head to kiss Ellie, who suddenly pulled away as she surveyed the car park through the windows. She shifted next to him in the seat, attempting to slip her way back into her pants and trousers while mostly staying seated. Redressed, Ellie climbed back into the driver’s seat while Hardy worked his way into his own discarded garments. Ellie once again peered around the parking lot.

“Is, um, anyone out there?” Hardy asked, not sure what to do or say. 

Ellie shook her head. “No, no one saw.” She stuck the key in the transmission. “We should probably go.” Ellie drove them back to the station in silence. On arrival, Ellie wished him a quick goodnight before departing for her own car, driving off while Hardy remained in his own passenger seat. With a shake of his head, he exited the car and reentered the driver’s side, discreetly checking himself and the car for any evidence that the encounter had taken place. None. What exactly had just happened?


	9. Chapter 9

Staring up at the dark ceiling of her bedroom, mobile in hand, Ellie accepted the fact that searching the force website for a job transfer was a bit of an overreaction to the events of the previous evening. Denial and avoidance would be far easier - and much more economical. Ellie had no regrets about shagging Hardy in the front seat of his car. She’d be lying to herself if she said that the idea hadn’t crossed her mind over the years, more out of curiosity than anything else. She’d never given it any real consideration, primarily because she knew crossing that line with Hardy couldn’t be simple or clean. What if he wanted to talk about it? What if he saw it as something more than a quick, meaningless encounter? But was it, really? Ellie flipped to her side and closed her eyes, but her racing thoughts kept sleep at bay. She saw how bothered Hardy had been about Henry, and one of the driving reasons behind breaking it off had been the nagging sense that she was doing something wrong. If circumstances had been different, Ellie and Henry probably could have had a lovely life together.

Looking for a distraction, Ellie once again considered the information on her mobile. There were quite a few interesting opportunities available out there, if she were willing to relocate. If seeing Hardy tomorrow at work turned out badly, Ellie sighed to herself, she may not have another choice.

Hardy arrived in the office early after his own fitful night of sleep. He kept replaying the encounter over and over in his mind, to the point where he almost wondered if he’d imagined the whole thing. Knowing Miller, he surmised, she would do what she could to avoid a frank conversation about where they stood. Hardy would respect that, but at the same time, he didn’t want to stay at arm’s length any longer. This, he chastised himself, is why that boundary shouldn’t have be crossed. Hardy sighed, rubbing his temple. At least Daisy was arriving that afternoon for a long weekend. Something to look forward to.

Time went on as CID filled up with officers arriving for the workday. Hardy spent his morning answering emails and filling out reports, glancing up at Ellie’s desk surreptitiously through his office windows until she finally arrived. Ellie made a beeline for her own computer, immediately turning on her monitor and pulling up a video interview with a witness from a case. As Hardy watched her put on a pair of headphones, he knew that she was doing her best to avoid him entirely. Turning his attention back towards his keyboard, Hardy returned to his emails while Ellie scribbled notes on the interview.

After several hours, Hardy began feeling claustrophobic inside his small office. He looked up again. Ellie had left her seat at some point. With no pressing matters in CID, and with Daisy’s arrival at the train station imminent, he decided to head out. Pulling on his coat while mentally congratulating himself for getting through the awkwardness of the day, Hardy rounded the corner to the lift, only to find Ellie waiting for it herself.

Ellie glanced over at him, and then immediately back towards the numbers over the lift. Hardy shifted uncomfortably next to her, unsure of what to do. “All right?” Ellie nodded, her eyes not leaving the lift’s progress report. Hardy did his best to make conversation. “Are you done for the day?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, I’m off for the follow up appointment with the neurologist, and then I’m getting the staples removed.”

Hardy temporarily forgot his posturing. “Do you need a lift? Because I can –“

“No,” Ellie interrupted. “The doctor said it’s all very straight forward. I’ll be back here in an hour or two.” She glanced over at Hardy, suddenly curious. “Where are you going?”

“Um, the train. Daisy’s coming in today.”

Ellie couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, that’s nice.”

The lift arrived, and the pair stepped on. They traveled down together in silence, until Hardy couldn’t hold his words in anymore. “Miller –“

“Look, I’m sorry. I took things too far.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I am, though. I feel like I muddled up everything, and I’ve put you in an uncomfortable position.” They arrived in the underground car park, both stepping off the lift but not approaching their respective vehicles. “If we could just forget what happened –“

Hardy interrupted. “I don’t want that.”

Ellie was caught off guard. “What?”

Hardy hesitated before continuing. “Miller, I –“

The doors to the lift opened behind them as a triumphant P.C. Patterson stepped off. “Good news, sir! I just got off the phone with a pawnbroker in Weymouth. He’s recently received items that match the description of some stolen from the car park, and he has CCTV footage of the customers who brought them in.”

“For god’s sake, Patterson!” Hardy roared as he stormed off towards his car, leaving Ellie and the young officer by the lift. As they watched Hardy drive off, Ellie couldn’t help feeling heartbroken at the sight of Patterson’s wounded expression. “Give me two hours, and I’ll come back to get this sorted, yeah?” She tried to reassure him with a pat to the arm. “Well done.” Patterson called the lift, slightly defeated, as Ellie walked to her car, shaking her head.

“…So anyway, I do like the program, but my mate Caitlyn just switched universities and she says there’s a lot more opportunities in the field where she is now.” Daisy took a bite of her takeaway curry before she continued. “And, well… I put in an application to transfer, and I’ve just been accepted.”

“Oh?” Hardy poked at his rice as Daisy spoke. “Are you going, or just thinking about it?”

“I really do want to pursue this, Dad. And Caitlyn loves it up there.”

Hardy speared a tomato wedge with his fork as he returned Daisy’s smile. “Well then, I’m happy for you, darlin’.” Pausing for a moment, he continued. “Where exactly is this university?”

“Um… Leeds?” Daisy grimaced slightly, waiting for her father’s reaction. Hardy sat back, raising his eyebrows thoughtfully as he considered it.

“Huh. Quite a ways from home.”

“I know. I’m a little nervous about it, but half the people I study with now are from bloody Sandbrook, and Caitlyn said she’s made loads of friends in Leeds… I thought it might be an adventure, you know?”

As Hardy and Daisy ate dinner on the terrace of his cliff side home, he couldn’t help but feel a tug of melancholy as Daisy excitedly planned for the future. As happy as he was for his daughter, and the seemingly unlimited opportunities in front of her, the same sense of pointlessness that kept creeping in nagged him. Now that Daisy was moving, and he’d sufficiently ballsed things up with Ellie, there really seemed to be no point in remaining in Broadchurch at all. Why not relocate himself? Hardy mused. Somewhere up north, not so close to Daisy as to smother her, but convenient for visits. He could even return to Scotland, seek out a job in Edinburgh and climb up the professional ranks. Hardy was so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly didn’t hear Daisy.

“...Dad? Could I?”

“Sorry, darlin’, could you what?”

“Meet up with Chloe tonight?” Daisy held up her mobile. “It’s her mate Shayna’s birthday, and she just invited me to the pub.”

Hardy forced himself to concentrate. “Of course. You can go on, I’ll clean up here.” Daisy disappeared into the house to ready herself, as Hardy collected takeaway containers with a sigh.

Later that evening, alone in his gaff, Hardy read through several emails detailing the latest on the car park vandals. With CCTV footage from Weymouth, and a positive ID on the stolen items, warrants were drawn up and arrests were made. The two burglars were detained at the station for the night, the matter not so urgent as to require questioning that evening. Patterson had done thorough work on the case, Hardy realized. He nearly felt bad for how short he’d been with the eager young constable in the car park.

Hardy busied himself with his laptop when he heard a light knock. Walking over to the sliding glass doors, he briefly hesitated as he saw Miller standing outside, hands inside the pockets of her orange jacket. Neither said anything as he opened the door, the atmosphere slightly uncomfortable as they both struggled with how to proceed. Hardy tried first.

“How’s your head?”

Ellie shrugged. “Fine. A bit sore.” The silence continued, before Ellie let out a sigh. “Okay, I was trying to avoid this conversation –“

“Really?” Hardy interjected. "I had no idea.”

Ellie scoffed before continuing. “-But I think we need to figure out if we’re on the same page.” She paused. “Or even what page we’re supposed to be on.” Ellie peered up at Hardy. “Let me in, it’s bloody cold out here.”

Hardy stood aside as Ellie entered. She didn’t sit, and Hardy stood opposite her after sliding the door shut. They looked at each other in silence before Hardy spoke.

“If – what happened yesterday – if that’s all you wanted, we can leave it at that and move on.”

Ellie hesitated. “But that’s not what you want.” Hardy had to work up the nerve to shake his head. Ellie sighed. “I don’t think that’s what I want, either.”

Hardy was surprised. “But – what about your chef friend?”

Ellie shrugged. “What about him? I broke it off after I got out of hospital.”

“Why?”

Ellie was incredulous. “Why do you think, you bloody daft twat? I have feelings for you, and it took a car shag for me to realize that. Now what are we supposed to do? Ignore all of this? Move to opposite ends of the county? What, then?”

Hardy was momentarily stunned by the admission, but desire quickly took over as he leaned in to kiss Ellie, his hands moving to her hips. She eagerly reciprocated, stroking his arms and moving to touch the back of his neck. They held each other as they kissed, the previous night’s urgency gone but the excitement undeterred. Ellie momentarily broke away.

“Isn’t Daisy –“

“She’s out for the evening.” Ellie dove back in as Hardy’s hands moved from her waist to the sides of her breasts. She pulled him tighter, feeling his erection against her. Hardy broke the kiss this time. “Not out here.”

He led Ellie by the hand into bedroom, dimly lit from the glow of the town below. Ellie felt nervous. This wasn’t a quick fumble in a car. It actually meant something. However, she didn’t allow nerves to slow her down as she pulled Hardy’s jumper over his head and began undoing the buttons of his shirt. She paused to reciprocate, removing her own top and trousers before standing on tiptoes to kiss him.

The pair finished undressing and resumed their snogging as Ellie pulled Hardy back onto the bed with her. They both took their time, hands and mouths more exploratory, and Ellie’s apprehension had all but dissipated as Hardy kissed his way down her breasts and belly before channeling the frenetic energy of the encounter into pleasing her. He gripped her thighs as she clawed at the duvet next to her, unable to hold on. Nearly at the brink, Ellie breathlessly ordered Hardy to rejoin her. He complied as she reached down, guiding him inside her. Neither moved for a moment, just enjoying the sensation and the warmth before Hardy pushed himself deeper inside, maintaining a slow, deliberate rhythm. Ellie ran her mouth down his neck and shoulders as she felt the orgasm roll through her, crying out into his skin. She rolled Hardy over onto his back, and repositioned herself on top. Ellie placed her hands on his chest as she rocked her hips. Hardy ran his over her arms, stopping at her shoulders. It wasn’t long before he gasped out, hands settling down around her hips as his body relaxed. They both stayed in position a moment more, Ellie’s hands feeling his heart beating inside his chest. Hardy moved his right hand atop her left, over his heart, as they both savored the come down. 

Ellie looked down at Hardy, his eyes remaining closed as they both regained composure. In the dim bedroom, he looked somehow lighter, more free. Ellie cleared her throat, causing Hardy to peek up at her. 

“As I was saying, bit unprofessional to shag off the company roster, don’t you think?”

Ellie fell sideways, laughing, as Hardy could only respond, “Bloody hell, Miller,” as he lightly smacked her with a discarded pillow. She resettled, lying back against his chest as he reached his left arm around her.

"You're apologizing to Patterson tomorrow."

Hardy just responded with a bemused grunt. As they both stared up at the dark ceiling, Ellie could only consider that she may not have any clear direction where they were going, but, for now, she wasn’t bothered by not having answers.


	10. Chapter 10

The early rays of the day’s sun stirred Hardy awake. He peered at the light infiltrating the curtain, and then glanced at the bed next to him. Ellie was still asleep, but soon was awoken by Hardy’s shifting. She looked up at him blearily before moving to her back and running her hands over her face. “Bloody hell. I didn’t mean to actually sleep here.”

Hardy responded with a bemused grunt. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“No,” Ellie replied. “Not that bad.” Without making much of an effort to wake up, she inched closer to Hardy to lay her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, running his fingers over her shoulder and through her hair. Ellie moved her free arm across his abdomen. They lay for a moment in silence before Ellie sighed. “Probably nobody will notice I didn’t make it home last night.” She paused before continuing. “Although I should leave before Daisy gets up.”

“I heard the front door open about half three,” Hardy said, staring up at the ceiling as he continued to rub Ellie’s shoulder. “I don’t think there’s a risk of seeing her any time before ten.” Ellie snickered from her position over his chest. “Daisy’s moving. Going to university in Leeds.”

That was enough to rouse Ellie. She propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look at Hardy. “Wow.” She studied his face for a moment. “How do you feel about this?”

Hardy shrugged as he stretched, arms settling behind his head. “I’m happy for her. She’s excited.”

“But you’re less enthused.”

Hardy sighed. “It’s not about me, though. She’s a young woman. She has everything going for her, she’s got a mate up there and she’s looking forward to studying. It’s just-“ Hardy paused, considering his own words. “I feel like, as her dad, I’m perpetually playing catch up. I’m trying to make up for the time I wasn’t around, but I’m falling short. But she’s an adult – she has a life of her own, I’m not going to force her to stay here and play happy bloody family, but – I guess – I’ve been questioning my own next steps.” 

Ellie considered Hardy’s words thoughtfully. “There’s a lot of opportunities in that part of the country. I saw some good positions around Leeds listed online.”

Hardy gave Ellie a curious look. “Why were you looking at job postings?”

Ellie paused. “No reason.” She lay back down on her side, facing Hardy. He turned his head to look back at her. “Something to consider. I mean, if you came back here for Daisy –“

“Well, not entirely for Daisy.”

Ellie couldn’t help but smile at that before continuing. “-I’m just saying, she’s not the only one who has potential and their life ahead of them.”

Hardy shifted onto his side. “Why did you stay here?”

“Pride, I guess? If I moved, I would have conceded everything because of Joe.” Ellie sighed. “I felt like I had something to prove. It would have been easier if I hadn’t been so stubborn.”

“Well, like you said, a lot of opportunities out there. Tom’s nearly grown, it doesn’t sound like Fred’s school will miss him –“ Ellie snorted with laughter in response. “-And you can pawn your father off on your sister.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Hardy responded by reaching over to tug at the sheets tucked around Ellie, pushing them down as he leaned in. He ran his hands over the bare skin on her side as their lips met. They melted into a languid kiss, cut short by the buzzing of Hardy’s mobile.

“Oh, bloody hell,” muttered Hardy as he broke away and grabbed the phone. “What?” he barked to the caller.

“Good morning to you, too,” responded Caroline Crandall’s clipped voice at the other end. 

“D.C.I. Crandall,” replied Hardy, with realization.

“I have news. Hopefully it will put you in a better mood. Joe Miller made a full confession on both the assault on his wife and the murder of Daniel Latimer. CPS agrees he can be recharged. His solicitors are working out a plea deal where he’ll be sentenced to live in a residential treatment centre in a secure hospital rather than go to prison.”

“I see.” Hardy pulled himself into a seated position and glanced over at Ellie, who looked up at him with curiosity.

“I’ll email you documents with the relevant dates, and I’ll phone his wife this afternoon to give her the information as well.”

“Right… well, thank you.” Hardy hung up and looked over at Ellie. She raised her brows at him.

“What was that?”

Hardy sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “That was the D.C.I. with the East Devon Constabulary. Joe’s confessed – to all of it. Attacking you, killing Danny. He’s been recharged. His solicitors are trying to get him into a psychiatric facility.”

“Christ,” Ellie exhaled. Neither spoke for a minute before Ellie rolled over on her side with a sigh. “I should go. I need to talk to Tom.”

Ellie didn’t stand up, and Hardy resettled himself behind her, arm around her waist and lips against the back of her neck. Neither spoke as Hardy held her, the air heavy with uncertainty.

“…This is probably the best possible outcome, sweetie. He’ll get the help he needs, and we’ll always know he’s in a secure place… He isn’t going to be able to hurt someone else now.”

Ellie watched as Tom picked at his eggs. She thought it best to eschew the responsibilities of the morning in order to explain the situation outright. In the relative quiet of the café, Ellie studied her son’s face as he looked down, unspeaking. After a long moment, Tom looked up with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Mum.”

Ellie shook her head. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I missed him.” Tom’s voice cracked. “I knew it was a mistake, but he seemed so normal. I thought that maybe he had changed...” Tom’s voice drifted off as Ellie reached out to squeeze his hand.

“I understand, sweetheart, I do.” Neither spoke for a long moment, until Ellie gave her son a sad smile. “Listen, Tom… you’re almost out of school, and you can go anywhere or do anything, and you won’t have your father looming over you anymore.”

Tom returned her apprehensive smile. “Scott, Matt and I were talking about maybe moving up to Exeter. Getting a flat up there, studying and working.”

“That’s wonderful, love.” Ellie paused before continuing. “I was thinking about selling the house. I can put the equity towards your studies.”

Tom looked surprised. “Where will you live?”

Ellie shrugged. “Downsize a bit. We don’t need all that space. Buy something smaller…” Ellie hesitated. “…Possibly outside of Broadchurch.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Are you upset?” 

“No…” Tom shook his head. “Just… I didn’t know you wanted to leave.”

“I’ve been thinking about it. It might be time for a change. I think we could both benefit from getting some distance from your father.” Ellie paused. “Also, I get three emails a day from Fred’s school. Maybe he’ll have a bit of a honeymoon period in a new environment.” Tom snorted with laughter as Ellie returned his smile. “You know I love you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Ellie squeezed Tom’s hand before releasing it, as they both returned to their breakfasts.

Several hours of the workday had gone before Hardy had the opportunity to step inside his own office. The car park vandals confessed after questioning. After the perpetrators were charged and various P.C.s and D.C.s were ordered to follow up leads on missing items, Hardy sat at his desk and surreptitiously pulled out his mobile. Pulling up the police force’s recruitment website, Hardy considered the possibilities. Ellie was right. There were a lot of opportunities outside of Broadchurch. Hardy was so lost in his own thoughts that the sound of Ellie clearing her throat made him jump. He looked up to see her standing at his office door. 

Ellie gave him a bemused smile. “What are you reading?” Hardy held out his phone in response. As Ellie perused his mobile, she raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re really considering this?”

Hardy leaned back in his chair. “So were you.”

Ellie returned his mobile. “Tom’s agreeable.”

“How did he take the news about Joe?”

Ellie shrugged. “It was hard.” She paused. “He’ll be okay, though. He’s got a lot ahead of him.”

“He does. The kids both do.” Hardy hesitated. “We all do.”

Ellie snorted with laughter. “Look at you, ever the optimist.”

Hardy looked up at her thoughtfully. “I mean it, Miller. If we’re both moving on, why not…” He trailed off as Ellie raised her eyebrows. “You know. Move on. Both of us.” He paused. “Together.”

Ellie crossed her arms, but couldn’t mask her amusement. “Is that so?”

Hardy gazed up at her before nodding. “I’m serious,” he said softly. 

Ellie could feel her posturing fade as nerves kicked in. She hesitated. “Fred’s a handful.”

“He is. But that’s fine.”

“What about Joe? My solicitor just started divorce proceedings, and he could be in and out of our lives for God knows how long.”

“I know. And we’ll work through all these things. I just – I don’t want to leave here again unless you’re coming with me. Please,” he stated. “Don’t make me bloody beg.”

Ellie gave him a long look before adding an apprehensive smile and a tiny nod of her head. “Fine.”

Hardy opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. He nodded back. “Good.”

“Well,” Ellie said, taking in a deep breath. “So long as we’re both still employed in CID, I do have work to do.” She and Hardy held their gazes as she exited his office and returned to her own desk. Looking back at Hardy through his office window, he gave her a rare smile. She returned it, before turning back to her computer screen.

For the first time in a long time, Ellie felt at peace. Things would work out.


End file.
